Dipper's Urge
by Kiwi Werewolf
Summary: A little oneshot featuring Dipper and Coraline by the beach. Expect the unexpected.


The bench is still slightly damp, and so carved up and graffitied and mangled it looks almost like a piece of modern art. The weather isn't great – grey skies promising even more rain; the ocean before them still and dull; the tangle of beach-grass sprouting crudely out of the ground all sandy and wet and trampled. The air is thick with salt spray from the rocks far below down the cliff, and combined with the wind it has the effect of making one's hair – particularly _long_ hair – get out of place and stiff from the salt. If this were a movie, it might be used for a fight scene, or perhaps a suicide scene off the jagged cliffs. It certainly wouldn't be picked for a romantic scene.

But then again, this is _Dipper_ we're talking about.

"I really don't know why the hell you took me out here, Dipper," Coraline says, looking around and holding her hair up with one hand, sitting on her jacket because of the wetness of the bench. When she looks over and sees Dipper is smiling, almost laughing, she gives him a smouldering look and shoves him lightly on the shoulder.

"Sorry," Dipper smirks, wondering fleetingly if he should put his arm around her but deciding not to, just in case she rejects his advancement. And then he does it anyway.

"You're warm," is Coraline's only comment, leaning in on his shoulder a little bit. "And you still didn't answer my question."

"Well, maybe I wanted to… hang out with you… and just uh, kinda get away from all the other people and all the clutter," Dipper stutters, suddenly awkward and unsure of himself, unsure if he can do the move he had imagined in his head so many times.

"Yeah, I like hanging out with you too," Coraline smiles at him, a slash of blue hair dividing her face in two before she flicks it back, brown eyes on brown eyes. "You're a really great friend."

Dipper flinches inwardly at the word 'friend', but his smile never falters. He moves his arm up so that it is resting on her shoulders. "It's uh, good to have friends," he tells her softly, trying desperately to make interesting conversation.

"I think so, yeah. I like listening to people, you know, and kind of exploring the worlds they have in their heads, if… that… makes sense, which it doesn't," Coraline rolls her eyes, and is about to say something else when Dipper cuts in.

"No, that totally makes sense," he says, smiling, and Coraline sits up and faces him on the bench. "It's cool how um, you know, everyone has their own stories, and they've all been on their own adventures, all done stuff that, that we haven't, and it's cool learning about that." Dipper's cap is almost snatched away in the wind, so he thumps a hand down on his head and takes it off. He glances up at the sky to see the clouds are getting even darker, the rain even closer.

"Yeah. Sometimes you find out some really surprising stuff about people," Coraline says, oblivious to the weather (except the wind, which causes her to constantly adjust her hair), and leans on the back of the bench with one arm, completely engrossed in talking to him. "Like, for example, have you ever drunk beer?"

"Uh," Dipper winces, unsure where this conversation is taking them but still hoping to direct it back to the topic he wants to talk about, "Yeah. Like, once. My dad left it out on the table so I took a sip. Everyone says it tastes like fire or whatever, but it didn't to me. It tasted like…" Dipper scrunches his face up as he searches for a word, then settles lamely with "Grossness. Alcohol. I don't know!"

Coraline laughs a little, rolling her brown eyes and moving a little closer to him. "How very eloquent and descriptive," she tells him sarcastically.

"Eloquent? You been playing the Sims Medieval?" Dipper asks on an impulse, then scolds himself for letting the conversation drift off topic.

"Ew. No. Read it in a book once," Coraline tells him playfully. "And by the way, I _know_ this isn't what you wanted to talk about," she then tells him bluntly, but in the same playful tone. A seagull up in the sky somewhere makes its screaming bird noise, and the cry is returned, really setting up the whole 'seaside' theme of the evening.

"You caught me," Dipper laughs, moving in closer again, having to balance his weight a little awkwardly because of a missing plank on the bench. _Flirt,_ he thinks desperately to himself. _Come on, flirt!_ "Why do you think I brought you out here?" Dipper asks in a low, hot tone. "Apart from the totally... romantic scenery, and the dramatic salt-spray?" he raises his eyebrows as he talks, smiling, trying to look amorous and cool and attractive. _Come on, Dip, almost there… break the barrier… you can do it!_

"Romantic? What, when'd that word ever come into the equation?" Coraline laughs, moving in very, very close.

"Well, funny story, that," Dipper says, to Coraline's giggle, and then he knows it is time to make his move.

In one quick, fluid movement he grabs the syringe taped inside his hat, aims, and injects Coraline's neck with the liquid inside. Her eyes go wide and she looks with panic at Dipper, who chuckles, his big brown eyes wild and exhilarated. Coraline starts shaking and convulsing, and Dipper stands up and steps back as she falls off the bench.

"I'm sorry, Coraline, please don't take this personally," Dipper purrs, a lot more confident now, a gleam in his eyes and his heart-rate racing, "But there's only room for two main characters in Oregon and you aren't one of them!"

"Duuuuppppp-uuuuuuuuurrrrr," Coraline manages to force out, as she shakes on the ground. "Pw… pweeds…"

"Shake all you want," Dipper whispers, "Nobody's going to save you."

He then rolls her screaming figure off the cliff, and on second thoughts throws her jacket down too. After a few seconds obliterating all traces of either of them ever being here, he starts walking back the long way back to the Mystery Shack.

"Dammit," Dipper moans, as he feels a drop of water on his head, "Rain."


End file.
